


A Muggleborn's diary

by ReCreso



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cell Phones, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Muggle Culture, Muggle Technology, Muggle-born, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Canon, Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-09-25 12:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReCreso/pseuds/ReCreso
Summary: Kevin Martens is a Muggleborn and this is his first year at Hogwarts. While magic is of course exciting, the wizarding world is often quite strange to a Muggleborn's eye.This is a collection of Kevin's impressions on the subject.





	1. The letter

My name is Kevin Martens. I’m 11, I’m from London and, apparently, I’m a wizard.

To be honest, strange things have always happened to me, but I would have never thought of magic as a cause for them; therefore, when a man came to our house to deliver an acceptance letter to this “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”, whose Headmistress was supposedly Minerva McGonagall, at first we thought it was a joke.

When the doorbell rang, none of us had any idea of who could possibly be; so, my mum was really surprised when she went to open the door and saw an unknown man standing on the doorstep. He was tall, with brown and silver hair and dark eyes; his clothes looked a bit off, as if he had bought them in the early 2000s and had never had the chance to wear them. Definitely not something you would wear in 2014.

‘Good evening, madam. I’m Professor Lucius Landstone, from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I believe you have received a letter announcing my arrival on this day.’

It took my mum a few moments to fully understand those words.

‘Whoever you are, this isn’t funny,’ she finally replied with a harsh voice, then closing the door.

My dad and I were just coming out of the kitchen. We had heard the short conversation: I was confused, but my dad looked livid.

‘Who the hell...’ he started, but then he stopped, looking at the door opening again and revealing Mr. Landstone, who had a stick in his right hand.

‘I’m sorry, but...’ he was saying, but soon he was interrupted by my dad, who shouted: ‘Go away right now or I’m calling the police!’, all while actually getting ready to punch the guy – or at least, so I thought.

Mr. Landstone didn’t lose his composure. ‘If you’d just allow me to explain...’

‘Explain what?’ I asked. While I didn’t exactly trust that person, he didn’t seem dangerous – although he had just broken our door open.

‘You must be Kevin,’ said the man. It seemed that he wanted to come in, but my parents were standing in his way.

‘I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Martens, this must be a misunderstanding: perhaps you haven't actually received the letter?’

‘We have, but we thought it was just a joke. Kevin, a wizard? Magic existing in the first place?’ was my mum’s reply. I knew nothing of the letter they were talking about.

‘I can show you, madam, if you just let me.’

Something in his voice sounded too serious to be a joke... but it _had_ to be.

Since my parents didn’t answer, Mr. Landstone took the chance and waved his stick: our wooden door became a glass door in the bat of an eye.

We all shouted.

‘See? This should convince you that magic exists... and I should manage to convince you that Hogwarts exists in a minute, if you’d just let me explain.’

 

            A few minutes later, we were sitting in the living room. Mr. Landstone had turned our door back into a wooden one; my mum had just put the kettle on the stove, and when she came back to the living room Mr. Landstone started telling us about what was going to become my world.

‘As I told you, I am Professor Lucius Landstone. I teach Transfiguration at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I’m here because you, Kevin,’ he spoke to me directly, ‘are a wizard, and therefore you’ve been accepted into our school.’

There was a moment of silence.

‘Excuse me, sir, but... how do you know that I’m a wizard?’ I asked.

‘Magic leaves its signs, you know,’ he answered. ‘Haven’t you ever done something odd? Something you couldn’t understand?’

‘Well... sometimes, I guess.’ I shrugged. I had switched off lights when I didn’t want to get up to do that, I had jumped unusually high, I had repaired my dad’s phone when I thought I had broken it for good that time... but I’d never thought it was magic. I mean, magic? Come on! That had to be some coincidence. For example, I wasn’t _sure_ I had broken my dad’s phone – even though it definitely looked like that...

‘But we’re not wizards... are we?’ asked my mum.

‘Oh no, madam. You are what wizards call Muggles – that is, people with no magic.’

‘Then how could Kevin possibly be a wizard?’

‘You see, while magic is usually hereditary, it sometimes shows up in people born from Muggles... Muggleborns, as we call them. Some think that it must mean that you have some witch or wizard among your ancestors, but anyways, what matters is that Kevin is a wizard. Now, Hogwarts is the most renowned wizardry school in the world, and there Kevin will learn how to develop and control his magic.’

The kettle started whistling. My mum went to the kitchen and soon came back with a teapot, then she poured some tea to Mr. Landstone and to the rest of us. She looked really confused, and so did my dad, who was absent-mindedly looking at his cup.

I wasn’t less confused than they were, but since they were talking about me, I decided that it was up to me to ask all the important questions.

‘So, um... where is this Hogwarts?’

‘It’s a castle in the north.’

‘So we’ll have to move?’

‘Oh, no, your parents won’t need to move – Muggles can’t reach Hogwarts anyways. You’ll be the only one moving.’

My dad had a little jump. ‘Wait, so it’s a boarding school?’

Mr. Landstone nodded.

‘Are you telling us that Kevin should move to this unknown place, which we can’t reach, and live there for the entire school year? He’s only eleven, you know!’

‘I understand your concerns, Mr. Martens, but I can assure you that Hogwarts is one of the safest places in Great Britain – if not in the entire world. Of course he’ll be under the surveillance of Professors and of the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.’

The news were shocking – I mean, _besides_ finding out that I was a wizard. Was I really expected to move to this bizarre school and leave my parents and friends behind? I _was_ only eleven, after all... and I had always thought I was going to a middle school in London.

‘This is your acceptance letter,’ then said the wizard, handing me an envelope. I took it: it contained two pieces of... parchment?

One of those said that had been accepted into Hogwarts, while the other had a list of schoolbooks and supplies.

‘Wait a minute, we didn't say he was going,’ objected my mum. My dad nodded.

‘Of course he's not forced to attend Hogwarts, but that would be an extremely bad idea, I'm afraid. You would deprive your son of an extraordinary future as a member of the wizarding world.’

Mr. Landstone's voice was very calm and kind. I had somehow started to trust him a bit.

Still...

‘Regardless of what they say,  _I_ am not sure if I want to go... I mean, that looks... tough.’

"Tough" wasn't quite what I had in mind... to be honest, I was scared. An entire school year away to an unknown place?

‘Oh, being scared is perfectly normal,’ replied the wizard, whom I clearly hadn't fooled with my wording. ‘I understand that this must sound incredible to you and your parents, but you can't deny what you are. Hogwarts would provide you with the best magical education and with the best environment a young wizard could possibly wish for. But the choice, of course, is up to you.’

None of us said anything for some moments.

‘Would you show me some magic again, Mr. Landstone?’ I asked.

He smiled and waved his stick: tiny yellow birds came out of it, flying merrily around the room and then landing on my mum's shoulders.

We were amazed.

‘And you'll teach me how to do that?’

‘Actually yes, since I teach Transfiguration - but you'll learn much more than just making some birds appear. ’

‘Oh.’

A short silence, once again.

‘I'll think about that, Mr. Landstone.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I made Landstone up, because I couldn't find any information on who succeeded to McGonagall when she became Headmistress.


	2. Diagon Alley

I ended up accepting: I was going to Hogwarts. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made – magic is awesome, but going to this mysterious place, all on my own, didn’t look easy, or pleasant. I was sure I was going to miss my parents, my relatives, my friends... but the opportunity was too good.

 

Now, as Mr. Landstone had told us, there was a special place where wizards got their school supplies, which was no surprise, since I’ve never heard of any shop selling actual magic wands or something like that. Before leaving, he had given us the address of a pub where he would be waiting on August 21st, because he had to help Muggleborns buy what they needed.

‘Be sure to lead your parents there, Kevin, because it could be hard for them to notice the place,’ Mr. Landstone told me while handing me a piece of parchment with the address. I gave him a puzzled look, but he just smiled, and then he left.

When we reached the place at the address Mr. Landstone had given us, I noticed the Leaky Cauldron at once: it didn’t look very... elegant, but it sure stood out, since its style was quite different from its surroundings – not to mention that you wouldn’t expect such a bizarre name for a pub, not even in London.

My parents, however, didn’t seem to have noticed that we were arrived.

‘Mum, dad? Where are you going?’ I asked them, since they were walking past the pub.

‘Well, Kevin, if the address is correct, this Leaky Cauldron should be around here, but I can’t...’ started my dad, but I interrupted him, pointing at the signboard with the cauldron on it. ‘It’s right here! Can’t you see it?’

They looked in that direction and they suddenly seemed surprised. ‘Oh my, you’re right’, said my mum. ‘I wonder why we didn’t see it at once.’

‘Mr. Landstone told me that it could be hard for you to notice it... perhaps it’s enchanted!’

My parents still looked confused when we entered the pub. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought it was going to be.

‘Good evening sirs, good evening madam. Are you looking for Professor Landstone?’ the innkeeper asked us as soon as he saw us coming in. Did we look so... what was the word... Muggle?

We didn’t get the chance to reply, because a man rose from a table in a corner and came towards us: it was, indeed, Professor Landstone.

‘Oh, Mrs. Martens, Mr. Martens, Kevin, I’m happy to see you here!’ he said, shaking my mum’s and my dad’s hands, then mine. ‘So, I assume that you’re coming to Hogwarts, Kevin, aren’t you?’

I nodded.

A bright smile shined on Professor Landstone’s face. ‘Wonderful! Very well then, allow me to guide you through Diagon Alley. I’ll tell you all you need to know.’

Whatever this Diagon Alley was, he took the lead, and we followed him to a little courtyard that ended on a brick wall. The wizard got his wand out and touched one of the bricks, which then started moving, along with the whole wall, and an archway was formed, leading into a crowded alley.

‘This is Diagon Alley. You’ll find everything you need for your first year at Hogwarts... but first, let’s talk about money.’

He took some coins out of a pocket: a golden one, a silver one, some bronze ones.

‘The golden one is a Galleon, the silver one is a Sickle, while the bronze ones are Knuts,’ he explained.

‘K-nuts?’ we all repeated.

The Professor nodded. ‘I know it sounds bizarre, but that’s what they’re called.’

 _I sure hope that the wizarding world doesn’t have its whole different type of English_ , I thought. Things were already looking confusing enough as they were.

‘Are you telling us that pounds won’t be accepted?’ my dad asked.

‘Indeed they won’t,’ was the answer. ‘But you can change your pounds into our currency at Gringott’s.’

Gringott’s was, as we were soon to find out, the only bank existing in the wizarding world, and it was run by _Goblins._

While they didn’t look very friendly, they were very happy to get my parents’ pounds to give them a pile of golden and silver coins, and a handful of bronze ones, the K-nuts.

The Professor then led us through Diagon Alley to get all I was going to need: first, a wand.

The wand shop was owned by a kind man named Ollivander. When we entered the shop he welcomed us with a smile, then he proceeded to explain that it’s the wand that chooses the witch or the wizard, and not the other way around: while I didn’t quite understand what that was supposed to mean, I was at least relieved to know that I couldn’t possibly choose the wrong wand, since apparently I wasn’t the one who was going to choose.

I tried a few wands, when at last one of them produced some golden sparkles when I grabbed it.

‘11 inches, walnut, unicorn hair, flexible,’ described Ollivander, taking the wand from my hands. ‘I’m sure you’ll find this a great companion.’

I smiled, while not precisely knowing what he meant: I had just got my wand, after all.

We then proceeded to buy books and supplies, and one particularly bizarre conversation took place.

‘You’ll need some quills, ink and parchment, Kevin,’ said Professor Landstone.

My parents and I gave him a puzzled look. ‘Er... we’ve already bought pens and exercise books, Professor,’ I told the wizard.

‘Oh, but those won’t do...’

I was more astonished than ever. ‘What do you mean? Are they forbidden?’ my mum asked.

‘Oh no, it’s just that...’

‘Maybe they don’t work with magic?’ I suggested.

‘No, no, magic has nothing to do with that – I mean, there are some spells that make quills correct errors, or that link them to the inkstand, so that they won’t run dry...’

 _Yeah, that’s called a pen_ , I said to myself, but I didn’t interrupt him.

‘We simply don’t use them,’ stated Professor Landstone.

My parents and I exchanged a confused look, but we decided to buy some quills, ink and parchment, just to make Professor Landstone happy.

 

The shopping session ended soon after that. The only thing that took some time was the uniform, because I had to try a couple of them before finding one my size. Professor Landstone had mentioned buying an owl, a cat or a toad, but I declined: I would have loved to have a cat, but I didn’t feel like caring for an animal while at a magical boarding school. Everything already looked challenging enough as it was.

I also learnt that witches and wizards fly on broomsticks. That was because, while walking on the street, I saw some kids staring in awe at a broomstick in a window.

‘Are broomsticks considered a luxury, Professor?’, I asked.

‘Only the most expensive ones... but first years aren’t allowed to have a personal broomstick, mind you.’

‘Um, I suppose you don’t use them to swipe the floor, do you?’

Professor Landstone laughed. ‘No, we don’t, Kevin. We use them to fly.’

‘You _fly_ on broomsticks?’

I didn’t know whether I found that more strange or more funny – that was a stereotype confirmed! Although it didn’t look comfortable nor safe.

‘We do... you’ll be taught that as well, don’t worry.’

‘Will I? That sounds really...’

‘Cool, I know. But no broomsticks for first years, I told you.’

‘Er, actually, sir, I was going to say “dangerous”.’

The wizard seemed surprised. ‘Dangerous? And why is that?’

_Is this man really asking me why flying on a broomstick looks dangerous?_

‘Well, I mean... I see no parachutes on that thing. Oh wait, perhaps you ride them wearing parachutes?’

Professor Landstone shook his head, laughing. ‘Don’t worry Kevin, all wizards fly on broomsticks, and accidents are quite rare.’

I suddenly felt nostalgia for cars.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

When Professor Landstone told us that I was going to Hogwarts on a train leaving from Platform 9 ¾ at King’s Cross, we didn’t even bother to question that. Oh, this platform can be reached only by walking through a wall? I expected nothing less, honestly.

On September 1st, we were at King’s Cross, right in front of the wall between platforms 9 and 10. I had just seen some people disappear through it, so I was sure... well, I was expecting that it would work.

‘So... we should walk into the wall?’ my mum asked for the fourth time in fifteen minutes.

‘So he said,’ I answered.

I wasn’t very comfortable with the idea either.

At last, we decided to walk into the wall, and luckily we didn’t crash on it. On the other side, a plaque reading “Platform 9 ¾” assured that everything had gone smoothly, and a bright red train was waiting on the tracks.

‘Well, uh... I suppose I should get in and find a spot,’ I said. There were lots of people, but they all seemed not to consider the train or the magical wall as anything special. Were Muggleborns so rare? But perhaps it was just my imagination.

I hugged my parents and said goodbye.

‘Don’t forget to call us when you get to the school!’ my dad remembered me; I nodded, smiling at him while showing him my phone in my right hand. The clock read 10:50 AM.

 

I had just found an empty compartment and put my luggage in its place when I heard the compartment’s door opening again behind me.

‘I’m sorry, can we come in?’ a voice asked.

I turned around and I saw two girls standing on the entrance: one had blond hair and brown eyes, while the other had black curly hair and blue eyes. They both looked my age.

‘Sure,’ I replied. ‘I’m Kevin,’ I added.

‘Lizzie,’ said the red-haired one.

‘Beth,’ said the other.

‘Wait, so you’re both Elisabeth?’

‘Yeah, but with “Lizzie” and “Beth” people don’t usually get confused,’ explained Beth. Her voice was somewhat plain, as if she had already been asked that question countless times.

‘Oh, so you already knew each other?’ I asked. We sat down.

‘Yes, we live in the same town, near Manchester,’ replied Beth.

‘We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarden. It was quite the surprise when that Landstone came to the both of us to tell us that we were witches...’ recalled Lizzie.

‘Wait, so you’re Muggleborns?’

They both nodded.

‘Me too!’ I said. I laughed a little. ‘I was hoping that you could tell me something about Hogwarts, but I’m afraid you don’t know more than I do...’

The girls smiled. ‘I think so. What do _you_ know?’ asked Lizzie.

I thought about it for a few moments. ‘Well, magic exists, and I think that’s obvious by now. We’re going to a magic boarding school called Hogwarts, where they’ll teach us how to do magic. There must be some spell to turn wood into glass and to make birds appear, because Landstone did that at my place.’

‘Oh, cool! When he came to my place, he turned a cup into a mouse,’ said Lizzie. ‘And then we went to Beth’s and he straightened her hair for some moments.’

‘Which was the absolute proof that magic exists, since I’ve never been able to do that myself,’ Beth added, putting a finger in her curls.

We laughed again. ‘My dad was also going to punch him in the face,’ I told them.

‘So was mine,’ replied Lizzie, while Beth said: ‘My dad wasn’t home, but my mum took the stoker from the fireplace when Landstone opened our door with magic after we had told him we didn’t know who he was.’

‘Ooh, he opened our door as well. I’m surprised he didn’t get stabbed a couple of times while going around people’s houses to tell them that their children can do magic.’

‘Who knows... maybe he _did_ get stabbed. He might have healed with magic,’ suggested Beth; Lizzie nodded.

‘Um, it might be,’ I said. ‘Anyways... I went to Diagon Alley and bought books, a wand, a uniform... oh, and _quills and parchment_.’

‘I know, right?’ said Lizzie. ‘We bought some just to make him happy, but I brought tons of pens with me. I’m not going to use a _feather_ to write.’

‘Yeah, not to mention parchment rolls,’ added Beth.

‘He actually told me that there are quills magically linked to the inkstand, so that they won’t run dry. “That’s a pen for you”, I was going to tell him...’

Yet another laughter. ‘But that’s it. Do you know something else?’

They both shrugged. ‘I’ve heard that we’ll be divided in some sort of... different dormitories, at Hogwarts, but I don’t know much more,’ Lizzie told me.

‘Whatever happens, though, we’ll keep seeing each other,’ stated Beth, then she looked at me: ‘Same goes for you, of course, if you want. I don’t know about you two, but I’ll feel more at ease with some “Muggleborns” around... I mean, I could always need a pen.’

Can't argue with that. I looked at my phone. ‘Oh, we should exchange phone numbers, just in case,’ I suggested. Lizzie and Beth agreed.

‘Have your phones been acting up lately as well?’ the latter asked. ‘Mine just doesn't seem ok.’

‘Mine was ok until I got on the train... but it took me two minutes to successfully save your number,’ I replied.

‘Same here,’ said Lizzie. ‘How strange. There must be some problem with the signal, here.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I suppose that's possible... but I don't see how that should interfere with saving a number.’

 

This little chat took some minutes. The train started moving shortly after.

‘I wonder how long it will take,’ said Beth. We were all staring at the window as the train moved faster, when we heard the door opening again.

‘May I come in?’ someone asked.

It was a boy our age. He was slightly shorter than me and he had brown hair just like mine, but his eyes were dark, while mine were light brown. He had a trunk with him.

‘Sure, come in,’ we said in unison. The boy walked into the compartment and closed the door. I stood up to help him put the trunk away.

‘Thanks... I’m Simon, by the way.’

‘Nice to meet you, I’m Kevin.’

‘Beth.’

‘Lizzie.’

‘Oh, so you’re both...’

‘Elizabeth, yes,’ huffed Lizzie.

After putting the trunk on the net above our heads, Simon and I sat down.

‘Don’t tell me you’re a Muggleborn,’ I told him.

His expression, quite jolly until then, became extremely serious all of a sudden. ‘Why, do you have any problem with Muggleborns?’

That reaction puzzled us. ‘Er, that would be really strange, since we’re all Muggleborns here,’ I replied. ‘Which is why I asked: it’d be incredible if four Muggleborns just happened to sit in the same compartment. I was also hoping that someone coming from the wizarding world could tell us more about it.’

Simon immediately looked more relaxed. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you... well, never mind.’

I exchanged a confused look with the girls. ‘Do wizards usually have problems with Muggleborns?’ I asked.

Simon’s face got red. ‘Oh no, no, don’t worry, I’m not... I mean... er, like, _some_ wizards are idiots, but just a few of them.’

Silence.

‘So, uh, what House do you think you’re going to?’ Simon asked, clearly because he wanted to change the subject. Too bad we didn’t know what the new subject was.

‘House?’ repeated Lizzie. ‘I thought Hogwarts was a castle...?’

‘Maybe it’s like those American things... fraternities, I believe?’ I suggested.

‘Oh, wait... you don’t know about the Sorting, do you?’

We shook our heads. Simon smiled, apparently happy that he could explain something to us – and definitely leave the “Muggleborn issue” behind.

‘You see, there are four Houses at Hogwarts: Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor. When you go to Hogwarts, you get Sorted in one of them according to your qualities.’

‘Such as...?’

‘Slytherin favours the ambitious and cunning, Hufflepuff the loyal and hard-working, Ravenclaw the smart and curious, and Gryffindor the brave and determined,’ Simon explained, then he added: ‘I think I’m going to Gryffindor, although I can picture myself in Hufflepuff as well. But who knows.’

‘And who decides that we have the qualities to go to any of these Houses?’ Beth asked. She and Lizzie looked a bit uncomfortable with the idea. They probably feared that they would be separated for good.

‘The Sorting Hat.’

‘The what, now?’

‘The Sorting Hat. It’s a magic hat that can tell which House best suits you.’

There was a short silence.

‘But are students still allowed to see each other and things like that, or are we going to be with our Houses only?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Oh no, of course we’ll be able to see each other – we’ll all be at Hogwarts, after all. But your House becomes kind of your family while you’re there, so students from different Houses just don’t hang out together as often as they do with their House...’

Simon seemed to be pretty knowledgeable on the subject, and he also appeared to be eagerly waiting for his Sorting.

I, on the other hand...

‘That sounds strange, honestly,’ I commented. ‘But as long as we’re allowed to talk to people from other Houses, I guess it’s ok.’

‘I just don’t see why they wouldn’t form regular classes like every other school, though,’ said Lizzie.

‘Well, this is no regular school, to be fair,’ objected Beth. ‘But I’m with Kevin: as long as we can see each other... although I’d rather be in the same House as everyone here. What were their names again? Huffpuff, Raveclaw, Gryff-something and...?’

‘Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin,’ Simon repeated. ‘And I’m aiming for Gryffindor.’

‘But do we actually have a say in this, or...?’

‘Well, no, we don’t,’ admitted Simon. ‘But still.’

Beth shrugged. ‘That’s the same for me... they all look nice. I suppose that the best one for studying would be Ravenclaw, though.’

‘Yeah, that makes sense,’ agreed Lizzie. ‘Although I wouldn’t mind that Slytherin... they sound cool... why that face, Simon?’

Simon had actually changed expression, looking a bit concerned. ‘Oh no, it’s just that...’

‘Don’t you think I’d be suited for Slytherin?’ Lizzie asked, her voice sounding a bit threatening.

‘No, well, uh...’ Simon sighed. ‘You know what? I think you should know. You’ll find out sooner or later, after all, and better from me than from someone else.’

We all gave him a confused look.

‘You see, a very small number of witches and wizards think that “blood purity” actually matters.’

‘“Blood purity”?’ I repeated.

Simon nodded. ‘You see, your parents are both Muggles, and you have no known witch or wizard relative, therefore you’re Muggleborns. Those who have Muggle relatives are Half-bloods, while those who don’t are Purebloods.’

‘And you are...?’

‘I’m a Half-blood. Actual Purebloods are extremely rare nowadays – most of those who claim to be Purebloods just pretend not to have Muggle relatives. Some ancient magical families still exist, though.’

‘And I suppose that those people think they’re better than everybody else because no Muggle has ever had a stomach strong enough to sleep with them?’ I asked.

Lizzie, Beth and Simon all looked at me for a moment, astonished, than they started laughing.

‘Yes, that’s the idea,’ said Simon at last. ‘But you see, it’s quite rare nowadays, because...’

He stopped.

‘Because...?’ echoed Lizzie.

Simon sighed. ‘You see, there have been three wizarding wars in the XX century, and last two ones were actually fought in the 1970s and the 1990s, when a man named Voldemort rose to power and tried to conquer the wizarding world. He and his followers believed in the importance of blood purity – which was quite ironic, since Voldemort himself was a Half-blood.’

‘Happens to the best of us,’ commented Beth, sarcastically.

‘Anyways,’ Simon continued, ‘those wars were very tough, and they were both stopped by a man called Harry Potter. The first time he was a mere kid, just one year old...’

‘And he beat this bad guy? Either he was the strongest kid ever, or this Vol-whatever wasn’t that great,’ I said.

‘Oh, trust me, he _was_ scary... I mean, not that I’ve seen that, but my parents have, and so has everyone their age. But Voldemort apparently toyed too much with the laws of magic, so he was defeated a first time, and then for the second and last time by Harry Potter, who by that time was seventeen. Blood purity fanatism has strongly decreased since he was defeated, but some wizards still believe in that.’

‘Well, ok, but I still don’t see how that’s my problem if I go to Slytherin,’ was Lizzie’s comment.

‘Ah, yes,’ Simon replied. ‘Well, the Slytherin House has always been... not very fond of Muggleborns.’

‘Do you mean they’re racist?’ Lizzie asked. She looked surprised.

Simon looked embarrassed. ‘Well, uh... not all of them. Not even _many_ of them, at least not now. But you’re more likely to find some of those people there than in other Houses.’

‘Oh, is it so? Well, then I’ll teach them a lesson about blood purity making them look at _their_ blood after I beat them up,’ claimed Lizzie.

‘My, Lizzie, that was dark,’ said Beth. ‘Although I can’t say I disagree,’ she soon added.

While I was shocked to hear about that blood purity nonsense, I completely agreed with them: no one was going to bully me for having Muggle parents. Nonetheless, I was relieved that I had found at least three people I could count on, just in case anything happened...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's a theory that says that no one is allowed to talk about the Sorting Hat before being Sorted (since apparently Ron and Hermione didn't know anything about it, despite coming from a wizarding family and having read "Hogwarts: A history" respectively), but to be honest it just doesn't sound acceptable to me. I'd say it was just a plot hole.


	4. The Sorting and the phones

We spent the rest of the trip chatting, mostly asking Simon about the wizarding world, but also telling him about the Muggle world. Although he was a Half-blood, having three Muggle grandparents out of four, while his parents were a witch and a wizard, he had lived among wizards most of his life, so he didn’t really know very much about Muggle things such as computers and cinema; however, he was at least familiar with pens, even though he told us that he’d still rather use a quill, and television.

‘So I suppose you don’t have a phone?’ I asked.

Simon shook his head. ‘I was planning on buying one, though, since my parents use them sometimes, especially to stay in touch with my grandparents, but I haven’t had the chance, and I’m not going to need one at Hogwarts anyways, so...’

We all shrugged: if wizards were fine with using owls to deliver their messages, good for them, but we weren’t going to give up on instant messaging so easily.

 

            After getting off the train and reaching the Hogwarts castle on some boats, guided by the tallest person I’d ever seen, we were welcomed by a professor – not Professor Landstone, as I had expected, but by a dark-haired man who seemed very kind, although something about him made me think that he was tougher than one would think at first glance. He introduced himself as Professor Longbottom and he told us that we were going to be Sorted into our Houses, just like Simon had said.

We looked at each other: the four of us had stuck together until then, and while of course that had been just a very short period, that was still something, in a world where none of us knew anybody. Simon came from a magic family, at least, but we Muggleborns really felt anxious – or at least I did, but judging from their expressions, Beth and Lizzie weren’t feeling any different.

We entered a big hall, where countless students sat at four very long tables, while at another table, in front of us, sat the professors. I recognised Professor Landstone sitting next to the giant person that had led us there.

Professor Longbottom brought a stool and a hat that seemed not old, but downright _ancient_. To my great surprise, it suddenly started talking, or to be precise, singing: it was a very long and pleasant piece of poetry through which he told us that it, the Sorting Hat, was going to Sort us into one of the four Houses, according to the qualities they valued most, which were exactly those that Simon had told us. We also learnt that Hogwarts was more than 1000 years old and that it had been founded by four very famous and skilled wizards, whose names I can’t remember, but whose surnames were actually the Houses’ names.

When the Sorting Hat stopped singing, a loud applause came from everyone in the room.

‘Now, I’ll call you, one by one; when it’s your turn, please come here and let me put the Sorting Hat on your head,’ said Professor Longbottom, then he called “Ash, Terence”.

It was a curious thing to watch: Terence Ash walked up to Professor Longbottom and sat on the stool; the Professor then put the Sorting Hat on his head, and for a few moments nothing happened, when suddenly the Sorting Hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!”: Professor Longbottom took the hat off Terence’s head, and the guy walked towards one of the tables, where students were cheering and clapping to celebrate their new member.

Out of the four of us, the first one to be called was Beth – “Danton, Elisabeth” – and it took the Hat some time to finally put her in Gryffindor.

Then it was Simon’s turn – “Lowrie, Simon” – and, as he was hoping, he was put in Gryffindor as well. I noticed some envy in Lizzie’s eyes when she looked at him walking to the Gryffindor table and sitting next to Beth.

‘Martens, Kevin!’, called Professor Longbottom. I had a little jump.

I started walking towards the stool. Caught by the show that was the Sorting, I hadn’t actually thought about which House I’d rather go... but to be fair, I had absolutely no idea anyways. Surely I wasn’t really fond of Slytherin after what Simon had told us, but I knew nothing of the other Houses – besides that “valued qualities” thing, which I didn’t quite grasp either. I mean, I got the picture, but I still couldn’t see which House would suit me best, and why.

I sat on the stool. The Sorting Hat was put on my head and everything went quiet.

‘Mmm... I see a sharp mind...’ a voice suddenly said. I recognised it as the Hat’s voice, but I felt like it was in my head rather than in my ears.

‘Um, thanks?’ I thought in response.

‘You’re welcome, my lad. I also see a hard-working attitude... quite Hufflepuff indeed...’ the Hat continued.

‘So I’m going to Hufflepuff?’ I thought... to myself, this time, but apparently the Hat could read every and any thought of mine, because he replied: ‘I don’t think so, my lad... you have many qualities, but as I said, I see a sharp mind, a mind that likes to question things and seeks knowledge. I can see that you’ll be perfect for the House of RAVENCLAW!’

The last word was said out loud. The Sorting Hat was taken off by Professor Longbottom and I stood up, walking to the Ravenclaw table, where people were applauding me. I felt a bit sad because I hadn’t ended up in Beth’s and Simon’s House, but I also felt flattered by what the Hat had told me.

I sat at the table and received a warm welcome from my now fellow House members. Some of them introduced themselves, and so did I, but then I heard “Orthmere, Elizabeth!” being called and I saw Lizzie standing out of the crowd and sitting on the stool.

After a whole minute, the Sorting Hat finally cried “SLYTHERIN!”, and Lizzie went to the Slytherin table. I couldn’t read her face, but she surely didn’t seem very happy of her Sorting, although the Slytherin House didn’t cheer any less than they had done for the previous new members.

When the last name was called and the last kid was Sorted, Professor Longbottom put the Sorting Hat away and a woman stood up. She seemed to be in her 80s, but as vigorous as any young person, and I could immediately tell that she wasn’t one you could mess with and live to tell the tale.

‘I would like to say a few words before we start enjoying our delicious dinner,’ she started. ‘To those who have already spent some time here, welcome back; to those who have just come, welcome to Hogwarts. I am Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I’m sure that this year will be as fruitful as the preceding ones for your education, and I am sure I do not need to remember you that indiscipline and bad manners will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. If you have any problem, feel free to ask your Prefects, the Head of your House or any Professor for help; my office will also be always open for any issue you might have. Lastly, let me remember you that, while each House is worthy of praise and glory, our differences do not compare with our similarities. May we all unite under our school’s crest and work together for the good of all of us. And now, let the dinner begin!’

 

            Saying that the food was delicious would be an understatement. While eating, I was taught something about my House from other Ravenclaws: we were going to live in the Ravenclaw Tower, where we would enter only by solving a riddle, and we apparently had good chances of winning the Quidditch Cup that year, Quidditch being a bizarre wizarding sport played on broomsticks. I couldn’t quite understand what the rules were, but I was told that I was soon going to learn.

After finishing my dessert, and seeing that most of the students were still eating, I decided to go to Lizzie, Beth and Simon to talk to them and decide what to do, since older Ravenclaws had told me that we still had a few free days before lessons started.

But first, I thought I’d tell my parents I was at Hogwarts – the Sorting and the subsequent dinner were so interesting that I had forgotten about that.

I took my phone out of my pocket and I tried to dial my mum’s number, but... there really was something wrong about it. While it had been acting up, it had still managed to work... until then. The display was malfunctioning, showing strange colours and letters, and I couldn't even manage to turn it off and on. It also vibrated a little from time to time.

 _Oh my, how am I going to find someone who can fix a phone here?_ , I thought. That was a really serious matter: not only was I going to be without a phone for God knows how long, but most importantly, my parents hadn’t heard from me in hours, and since I was off to an unknown, magical school, I was sure they were feeling pretty anxious.

I stood up and walked to the Gryffindor table, where I found Simon and Beth chatting with other Gryffindors.

‘Hey guys!’ I said, tapping them on the shoulders. They turned around and smiled, while the Gryffindors next to them gave me a curious look. ‘Beth, would you let me call my mum? My phone seems dead for good,’ I sighed.

Beth clapped. ‘Oh dear, the phone! I was supposed to call my parents, too, to let them know everything was ok!’ she said, taking her phone out of her pocket.

To our surprise and despair, her phone looked as useless as mine.

‘What’s gotten into it?’ she huffed, pushing some buttons to try to switch it off. ‘I _have_ to call home!’

Simon and a couple of Gryffindor were looking at us with a curious expression – that had to be the first time they’d seen a smartphone.

‘Listen, why don’t we ask Lizzie?’ I suggested.

‘Yes, let’s go! I’ve already talked to her, right after the appetizers, but we didn’t even think of our phones... she’s a bit upset that she’s in Slytherin, you know.’

I nodded. ‘I figured. I wouldn’t be surprised if she punched someone before dinner ends, if what Simon told us is true.’

‘To be honest, those Slytherin people didn’t seem racist at all,’ said Beth. ‘They were talking with her when I went to their table, and they seemed nice. They gave me a somewhat strange look, but I think that’s because apparently there’s some rivalry between our Houses.’

‘And why is that?’

Beth shrugged. ‘Some wizards thing, I suppose. I don’t mind a bit of competition, though.’

I didn’t reply to that: I’d never been the competitive type, and I doubted that Hogwarts was going to change that, but good for Gryffindors and Slytherins if they wanted to compete with each other.

We found Lizzie enjoying a chocolate cake. She looked happier than she did right after her Sorting.

‘Hey, hi Kevin! And hi again, Lizzie,’ she said. The Slytherins next to her didn’t seem to care about us standing there, but they looked at me for a few moments, perhaps wondering why a Ravenclaw would be there with a Gryffindor.

‘Lizzie, does your phone work?’ Beth asked.

She furrowed her brow. ‘It _has_ been acting up lately, as you know, but...’ she said, while reaching for her phone in her pocket.

As expected, it wasn’t working.

‘Oh my, how are we going to get this fixed _here_? Do you think there’s a spell for it?’ she asked, looking quite concerned.

‘I don’t know,’ I answered, ‘but since none of our phones is working, I think we should ask a professor if someone can help us at least to tell our parents that we’re safe and sound here.’

‘Right,’ said Lizzie, raising from the bench. ‘Let’s go ask... Landstone, I guess?’

‘Shouldn’t we go to the Head of our House?’ objected Beth.

‘Well, I think so, but Landstone knows the three of us, and we probably just need a quick spell to make our phones work again... or perhaps he could just let us use his,’ was Lizzie’s reply.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Are we sure he even _has_ a phone? Simon doesn’t.’

‘Oh dear, you’re right,’ said Lizzie. We exchanged a troubled look and walked to the professors’ table, where we found Professor Landstone in a conversation with the giant man and Professor Longbottom.

‘As I was telling you, Neville, if you just gave us some roots...’ he was saying, when he noticed us. ‘Oh, good evening Lizzie, Beth, Kevin. Is something the problem?’ he asked, then telling the others: ‘I went to these kids’ houses to give them the letter.’

‘Sorry to bother you, Professor Landstone, but our phones don’t work, and we really need to call our families to tell them that we’re alright, or...’

‘Your what?’ he interrupted me.

‘Our phones,’ said Lizzie, showing hers to him. Landstone took the phone from her hand.

‘Oh, right, the Muggle machines.’ He sighed. ‘We should really tell Muggleborns _before_ they come here...’

We were pretty alarmed by those words, but he continued: ‘You see, electronic devices don’t work here: there’s too much magic in the air.’

‘ _EXCUSE ME?_ ’ we shouted in unison.

‘But we have to call our parents!’ cried Beth.

‘And how are we going to live without our phones for _months_?’ I added. ‘People will start wondering where we are!’

‘I’m sorry, but we can’t do anything about that,’ replied Landstone, handing Lizzie back her phone. ‘But you can send an owl to your families, of course,’ he told us. ‘And I’d suggest that you also send those phones back to them: they might end up doing _very_ strange things, if they stay in contact with magic for too long.’

‘An _owl_?’ Lizzie repeated, looking desperately at her phone, which had just started vibrating for no reason.

‘Yes, an owl,’ echoed Professor Longbottom. ‘The school has plenty, so you won’t have trouble finding one. You can ask Prefects to tell you where the Owlery is, tomorrow.’

‘ _Tomorrow_? My parents are going to kill me if they don’t hear from me for so long!’ I cried.

Professor Longbottom smiled kindly to me. ‘I’m sorry, but they’ll have to wait. There are some differences between our worlds that can’t be erased,’ he told us, and while his voice and face were very sweet, we understood that the conversation was over.

 

‘My mum is going to kill me,’ I said, while we were walking back to our seats.

The girls nodded. ‘Let’s at least hope that these owls are fast,’ sighed Lizzie.

‘Are you going to send your phones back?’ I asked.

‘No way!’ shouted Beth. ‘Mine is a bit old anyways... might as well try to make it function properly.’

‘Same here,’ said Lizzie. ‘Also because come on, how long are we going to stay here, ten months? Without a phone? Without Internet?’

‘Do you think we could even use Internet here, even if our phones actually worked?’ I wondered. ‘I mean, do you think that we’d have any signal?’

Lizzie and Beth clearly had no idea, just like me.

It was going to be tougher than I thought.


	5. The Owlery

The following day, we met before the Great Hall.

‘Has your phone started functioning again, by any chance?’ I asked.

Beth and Lizzie shook their heads. Simon chuckled. ‘There’s no way a Muggle device is going to work here at Hogwarts... you should just give up, guys.’

‘But has anyone ever _tried_ to make an electronic device work in here?’ objected Lizzie. ‘No offense, but you wizards seem pretty clueless about technology.’

‘Well, I can’t tell _who_ has, or when, but I’m sure that someone has... you’re not the first Muggleborns to come here, you know.’

That made sense.

‘But is the issue with electricity alone? Because the Hogwarts Express looks like a regular train, and I’ve seen some wizards wearing watches, so...’ I said, while we were walking into the Great Hall.

‘I think so,’ replied Simon. ‘Although the Hogwarts Express isn’t exactly a regular train... it has some spells on it. I don’t know which ones, though.’

I shrugged.

We all walked towards the Gryffindor table. Simon gave the three of us a puzzled look.

‘Er, Lizzie, Kevin... your tables are over there,’ he said.

Lizzie and I looked at each other. ‘Um, are you saying that we can’t sit with you?’ I asked.

Lizzie chuckled. ‘Calm down, Regina,’ she said. Beth and I laughed, but Simon didn’t seem to get the reference.

‘Well... it’s not like you’re not _allowed_ , it’s just that... everyone should sit at their table, you see. That’s how it works at Hogwarts.’

‘I’d get it if there were no seats here,’ said Lizzie, ‘but since there are...’

She was right: the Great Hall was half empty. Since lessons were going to start in a few days, students didn’t have to rush to classes after breakfast, so they came to the Hall at different times.

Simon was going to reply to that, but I butted in: ‘Listen, Lizzie, that sounds stupid to me as well, but I don’t think we should just come here and do whatever we want... it’s just breakfast. Let’s go at our tables and then let’s go to the Owlery.’

Lizzie looked at me for an instant, then she shrugged. ‘Oh, fine, I guess.’

‘Have you already made friends with someone from Slytherin?’ I asked her, while walking towards our tables.

‘The girls in my dormitory look nice, but we didn’t get to talk very much... we were all exhausted, yesterday, and I got here as soon as I got up, so still nothing. Still no racists, though.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear.’

I hadn't gotten to talk much with my own roommates either, but they seemed nice people. They were three wizards, all with magic parents, but they were all Half-bloods, and one of them had regular contacts with Muggles and the Muggle world, so he knew what I was talking about when I said that I was going to miss Starbucks. He sympathised with me on the phone issue – he hadn’t brought his because his parents had warned him not to, but still.

 

After breakfast, we went to the Owlery together. Simon came with us: he had decided to grab the opportunity to write to his parents.

‘How fast are owls?’ I asked him. ‘My parents must be _really_ nervous by now.’

‘Same,’ said Beth and Lizzie in unison.

‘Oh well, it should take them a day or two to get to London or Manchester, from here...’ he replied.

The three of us sighed. ‘A _day_ or two,’ Beth repeated. ‘We can do _magic_ and yet we have to wait days to send a message. I can’t believe it.’

‘Is instant messaging so important to Muggles?’ Simon asked.

‘Well, parents aside, what’s really annoying me is that I wasn’t told in advance that I wasn’t going to be able to use my phone,’ I answered. The girls nodded.

‘I bet that they don’t tell Muggleborns because some would refuse to come,’ said Beth.

‘Muggleborns would rather have their devices than magic?’ asked Simon, quite surprised.

‘Of course we’d rather have magic,’ was Beth’s reply. ‘But I suppose that people would get a bit mad.’

‘I’d rather have both, by the way,’ added Lizzie.

We got to the Owlery. It was a big room, carved in a tower, with owls of every kind flying around.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking,’ I said after getting there. The three of them turned around to look at me. ‘Perhaps we _should_ send our phones back,’ I suggested.

Lizzie and Beth frowned. ‘Why would we?’

‘Why _wouldn’t_ we? We can’t use them anyways.’

‘But we’ll learn how to fix them... eventually.’

I turned to Simon. ‘Is there any spell for that?’ I was genuinely curious.

‘Not that I know,’ was the answer.

‘Well, we _will_ find a way,’ insisted Beth.

‘I’m not saying that we won’t, but I don’t think we’re going to learn that on the first day,’ I replied. ‘Landstone told us that electronic devices do strange things when exposed to magic for too long... I don’t want a were-phone that howls at bright monitors, or whatever.’

‘What’s a monitor?’ asked Simon.

‘It’s a... never mind, that’s besides the point.’

‘Mmm... maybe you’re right,’ said Lizzie, looking at her phone, which had been buzzing for the last three minutes.

‘We can always try to fix them at home, when we go back for Christmas,’ I said.

Beth and Lizzie nodded, but Simon looked concerned. ‘You don’t mean that you want to try to enchant them at home, do you?’ he asked.

‘Well, yes... if we learn something useful for that. Why?’

Simon raised an eyebrow. ‘I suppose they haven’t told you yet... we can’t use magic outside of Hogwarts,’ he explained, then he quickly added: ‘Well, not until we turn seventeen.’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘I doubt they’re going to check if we’re doing magic every single day,’ she said.

‘Yes, we’ll be careful,’ I added.

Simon shook his head. ‘That’s not how it works... the Ministry will know if you use magic at home. It’s the Trace.’

‘The what?’

‘The Trace,’ he repeated. ‘It’s a spell that locates magic when used by an underage wizard. If there are adult wizards around it’s easier to get away with it, because they interfere with the Trace, but since you’re Muggleborns...’

‘Bloody _hell_ ,’ huffed Beth.

‘This bloody place, really,’ I sighed. ‘Well, no experiments at home, ok... but I still don’t want my phone to go crazy – like, magic crazy. I’m sending it back.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ said Lizzie. Beth didn’t say anything, but she sighed and nodded.

And so we put our phones in little parcels and sent them flying home with three owls.

‘Now that I think about it, how are they going to find our houses?’ I asked Simon.

‘They’re extremely intelligent animals, you know,’ he said. ‘Also, those who are going to deliver messages for wizards get a special training.’

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t make any comments on that.

‘I just hope that my parents won’t freak out when an owl comes pecking at the window,’ she said.

Beth and I shared her same hope.

We left the Owlery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, how do owls know where to go?


	6. Lessons

Lessons started at last, and so I was properly introduced to the world of magic.

It goes without saying that it was _thrilling_ to say the least: I had tried to do some magic on my own with my wand, but the results hadn’t been encouraging, and I had soon stopped trying because I didn’t want to accidentally cast some dangerous spell.

While I liked all subjects, my favourites were surely Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, which all looked “more magical” than the others to me, since all I needed was my wand, some words, and lots of practice.

Well, I’m making it sound easier than it was, but it was great regardless. Not that I didn’t like Herbology or Potion – quite the opposite.

Now, to be perfectly honest, there was one subject that I didn’t like: Flying.

Flying on _bloody broomsticks_.

I had no fear of heights, but I still found flying around on a broomstick terribly dangerous, and what’s more, quite useless: I was _not_ going to use broomsticks rather than planes or cars, and I was also told that there was a spell to basically teleport – “Disapparition”, I think. Perhaps I was just destined to hate physical education classes in every school, even in a magic one. It wasn’t like I didn’t like sports, I just didn’t like wasting my school time running or flying when I could have been studying something interesting – the Levitating Charm we were being taught during the first week, for example.

 

Students were nice to me and my other Muggleborn friends – and to Simon as well, of course, but he wasn’t a Muggleborn, so I expected him to fit in easily. I had actually met a couple more Muggleborns, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff, and of course a bunch of people coming from magical families.

Teachers were good, too, and they didn’t mind me using pens and paper to write, although they did give me a confused look more than one time, and the same goes for Beth and Lizzie, who both used pens and paper just like me. I actually tried to use a quill and some parchment in Transfiguration class, because I felt bad for Professor Landstone, who had looked really satisfied when I had agreed to buy some of that, but the parchment scroll kept rolling back and I was getting ink stains everywhere, so I just threw it all away and went back to regular writing material. Most of the students were quite curious about those “Muggle things” – they usually knew what pen and paper were, but they just preferred to use quills and parchment. Eventually, though, I had to get used to write on those, because professors assigned “scrolls” of essays, and I didn’t want to bother them asking them how many pages make a scroll.

Simon, Beth and Lizzie seemed to be doing just fine. The girls and I were a bit concerned about any possible racist remark, especially from Slytherin, but nothing happened, at least until a certain Potion class.

We had Potion class with the Slytherin House, and Lizzie and I usually teamed up when Professor Slughorn told us to get in pairs to work on a potion: the first time, it happened because we hadn’t had the occasion to talk in a while, then because both Ravenclaw and Slytherin had an odd number of first-year students, so someone would have been left out anyways. Besides, Slughorn explicitly told us that he was very happy to see friendship between Houses.

It was our third or fourth Potion class since we had come to Hogwarts and Slughorn had just told us to find a partner, so I had gone to Lizzie’s cauldron. Then, a Slytherin girl gave us what really seemed to be a disgusted look and turned to another girl, whispering loud enough to let us hear: ‘Of course, the Muggleblood goes with the Muggleblood. Birds of a feather.’

Her tone was definitely unpleasant.

I was caught off guard by those words, so I didn’t reply anything; Lizzie, on the other hand, was very quick to tell the girl, straight to her face: ‘Then you should find a bitch like you to work together on the potion, Felicia.’

I was left speechless for a moment, then I started chuckling. I actually felt the urge to burst out laughing, especially because Felicia looked absolutely livid, but I didn’t want to get us in trouble, even though Professor Slughorn didn’t look so strict.

The two Slytherin girls walked off from us, and when I finally managed to calm down, I complimented Lizzie on her comeback.

‘You see, there _are_ some racists in Slytherin,’ she told me. ‘Felicia Parkinson is the only one in our year, though. The other girl, Theresa, is always with her and laughs at every idiocy she says, but I don’t know, she just doesn’t seem to actually think less of Muggleborns... she’s just following Felicia’s lead.’

‘And “Muggleblood” is supposedly a slur?’

‘Yes. I’ve heard that it’s a sugar coated version of an actual slur,’ she lowered her voice, ‘“Mudblood”, they say, so they won’t get in trouble if someone overhears them.’

‘Have they been giving you trouble?’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘As incredible as it may sound, Slytherins are very sensitive on the subject and really do _not_ condone racism... they want to show the world that they’re not like everyone thinks, I believe. This means that people like Felicia have to keep it quiet if they don’t want trouble, but they grab any chance to remind all of us that they’re stupid as fuck.’

The coarse language made me think that Lizzie was more upset than she looked, but I didn’t comment on that.

‘Just tell me if you need help, okay?’ I told her. ‘Or Beth or Simon, for that matter.’

‘Thanks. I didn't tell any of you because I didn’t want to make you worry for no reason... but this was bound to happen.’

She turned away from the cauldron after putting some leaves in it and smiled to me, a smile that seemed a bit... dark. ‘Don’t worry, she was lucky that we were in class. Next time I’m going to punch her in the face and show her her own precious blood.’

Yup, very dark.

‘You know, Lizzie, I’m glad that we’re friends, but I’m also glad that we’re not enemies.’

 


	7. Quidditch

Our potion ended up being so good that Slughorn awarded us five points respectively.

Ah, House points, another Hogwarts thing I really couldn’t get into. As I’ve already said, I’ve never been the competitive type, and that whole points matter looked quite pointless to me – no pun intended. Why would I care? I was there to learn how to do _magic_ , who cares if the House I was put into gets 400 points and a cup.

Beth and Lizzie didn’t really mind that either. They did seem happy to be awarded some points, and they also occasionally teased each other pointing out that Gryffindor had more points than Slytherin and vice versa, but there were so many students that they couldn’t really make a difference on their own, so it was like rooting for a team in a particularly boring sport.

Speaking of which...

 

‘There’s a Quidditch match today, have you heard?’ I asked Lizzie while walking out of the dungeons to go to the Great Hall for lunch. ‘Slytherin against Ravenclaw.’

‘Have I heard? They’ve been talking about that for _days_ , in our common room,’ Lizzie sighed.

I laughed. ‘Same at Ravenclaw. Do you think this wizarding sport is so thrilling?’

‘I don’t know... I’ve asked about the rules a couple of times, but people would always get very excited and then start fighting over which Quidditch team or which strategy is best, so I’m not sure I got them correctly.’

‘What did they tell you?’

‘Well, there are three kind of balls: the Quaffle, which you use to score ten points at the time and it’s basically like our regular football balls; the Bludgers, that apparently fly around trying to hit players and make them crash; and the Snitch, that has to be caught to end the match.’

‘I see... that’s basically what I was told, too. And have you heard about the points?’

‘I have.’

‘Am I the only one who thinks that it’s incredibly stupid to give 150 points to the team who catches the Snitch, since most of the times it’s going to win them the match regardless of what happened?’

‘You’re not.’

We laughed.

 

After lunch, we headed to the Quidditch pitch. Beth and Simon joined us: Beth was curious about Quidditch, while Simon was just a Quidditch enthusiast, like most of the wizarding world, apparently.

‘But isn’t there any time limit at all?’ Beth asked him. ‘I’d like to do some homework before dinner.’

‘There isn’t, but matches don’t usually last more than a couple of hours at most, here at Hogwarts’ he answered. ‘Although I was told that a match once lasted a couple of weeks.’

‘A couple of _weeks_?’

Simon smiled. ‘It’s rare, of course, but it can happen. That’s what makes Quidditch so exciting... you never know what’s going to happen!’

We Muggleborns exchanged a puzzled look, but didn’t reply anything. Beth loved football and rooted for Manchester United, while Lizzie and I weren’t really into it, although we both enjoyed a good match; but this Quidditch didn’t seem appealing to any of us.

 

After we reached the pitch, we split: Simon and I went to the Ravenclaw tribune, while Beth and Lizzie went to the Slytherin one. Since we hadn’t talked about the Quidditch match until recently, Lizzie and I had already promised some of our House members that we would watch the match together, so that they could explain what was going on to us, and now it would have been rude to change our mind, although, since Simon was going to be with us, we didn’t really need anyone else. Anyways, Beth ended up with Lizzie not to leave her “alone”, although a Gryffindor up to the Slytherin tribune was apparently quite a rare sight.

The match started. The Ravenclaw team was wearing blue uniforms, while the Slytherins were wearing green; the captains shook hands and off they flew.

I’ll be honest: it was exciting. While I thought that Bludgers were a bit too violent for any sport, they sure added some spice to the match, and it was incredible to see how the players rarely let the Quaffle fall to the ground. The game was also quite fast-paced, leading to 100-80 for Ravenclaw in less than an hour.

‘Come on, you can do it!’ I shouted, seeing a Ravenclaw flying towards the Slytherin rings with the Quaffle.

‘You’re really enjoying this!’ stated Simon, smiling at me after we all shouted for our goal: 110-80 for Ravenclaw. ‘I knew it! Nobody can resist Quidditch.’

It was as if he was happy that I was finally enthusiastic about some wizarding world thing that wasn’t “just” magic.

Except...

‘And Bulstrode caught the Snitch! The match is over! Slytherin wins!’

At first, I didn’t even realise what the commentator was saying. How could Slytherin win?

‘Aw, too bad, your game was quite good! But hey, it’s the Snitch that matters, after all,’ was Simon’s comment.

Ah, right. The Snitch.

‘I had forgotten about that rule,’ I told him, giving him a confused look. ‘So all of this was for nothing?’

‘What do you mean, for nothing? It was a great match!’

‘Yes, and we lost because the other team caught the Snitch. What’s the point?’

‘The point?’

‘Yes, the point of Quidditch! I’m not saying that I don’t like this Snitch catching thing at all, but you could at least make it count for, I don’t know, 50 points rather than 150.’

Simon looked at me as if I had just suggested to kill someone.

‘But that’s how Quidditch works! Just 50 points for the Snitch? That thing is hard to catch, you know!’

While talking, we had gotten back to the ground and we had started looking for Beth and Lizzie.

‘I get it, but you must agree that... hey, Lizzie!’ I called.

Among the cheering Slytherins, Lizzie and Beth heard my voice and came towards us.

‘So, girls, did you like the match?’ Simon asked.

They looked uncertain. ‘I mean, it was fun... until they caught the Snitch,’ said Beth.

‘True,’ Lizzie agreed. ‘I’m glad we won, but that kills all the fun.’

‘Indeed!’ I said.

Simon looked incredulous. He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe this,’ he said, with quite a comic expression on his face. The three of us laughed at his reaction, and he soon started laughing with us, while we headed back to the castle.

We were going to our respective tables for dinner when Lizzie gently elbowed me: ‘Hey, what happened to our points?’, she asked, pointing at the giant hourglasses.

‘Why, what... hey, wait a second.’

While I couldn’t obviously count the gems in the hourglasses, it was quite clear that Ravenclaw and Slytherin had got a lot of points, and that Slytherin had got much more than Ravenclaw.

‘Quidditch points become House points,’ said Simon, who had noticed us staring at the hourglasses. ‘I thought you knew.’

‘We didn’t!’ replied Lizzie.

‘Wait, do you mean _every single point_? Meaning that they got _hundreds_ of points with a single match?’ said Beth.

Simon nodded.

‘Why do we even _bother_ getting points at classes?’ exclaimed Beth.

‘And we were so happy for those five points at Potions, today!’ Lizzie told me.

Well, I wasn’t _that_ happy because who cares, yet I agreed with her.

‘So basically the House Cup is awarded to the best Quidditch players,’ I told Simon.

‘Oh, come on now, don’t be like that,’ he replied. ‘Quidditch gets you lots of points, but everybody plays, so classes still matter.’

Um, he wasn’t wrong, after all.

‘It stills feels frustrating, going five by five, when a single Quidditch match can get you... 230 points, if I’m not mistaken,’ noticed Lizzie.

‘Or 110,’ I echoed. ‘And we were leading!’

‘O-oh, didn’t you say that you don’t care about competition?’ Simon teased me.

‘I _don’t_ ,’ I hissed. ‘It just feels unfair.’

He smirked at me, but he didn’t reply.


	8. Christmas holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the layout looking so "wide", but I couldn't help it. I hope you'll like this regardless.

Today [Ed. 22nd December 2014]

Beth created the group “Lion Eagle Snake”

Beth added you

 

**Beth**

_Yooooooo_

 

**Lizzie**

_Hi guys_

 

**You**

_Hi girls! Are you already home?_

 

**Lizzie**

_Nope_

 

**Beth**

_Still in the car. WE’RE NOT LONDONERS YOU KNOW_

 

**You**

_Jealousssss_

 

**Lizzie**

_hahahah_

_Are you still with Simon?_

 

**You**

_No, his parents came to pick him up shortly after you left_

_He gave me his address though, and we don’t live very far apart_

 

**Beth**

_Cool, that means you can go to his place_

_I wonder what a house of wizards looks like_

 

**Lizzie**

_Take lots of pictures when you go_

 

**Beth**

_Yeah, go full creepy_

 

**Lizzie**

_hahahah_

 

**You**

_hahahah_

_I’m going on the 27th actually_

 

**Lizzie**

_Great!_

**You**

_If he really gets a phone, as he told us, we should add him here_

 

**Beth**

_Of course!_

 

**Lizzie**

_I bet it’ll be hilarious_

 

**Beth**

_Sure_

_The guy has never made a phone call_

_Just imagine_

 

**You**

_I can’t decide if I like the group’s name or not_

 

**Beth**

_Why? It’s perfect_

 

**You**

_A bit unoriginal, though_

 

**Beth**

_Well excuuuuse me_

_Creative guy_

 

**Lizzie**

_Cretin*_

 

**Beth**

_LOL_

 

**You**

_Shut your mouth_

_[GRRR reaction pic]_

 

**Beth**

_hahahah_

 

**Lizzie**

_hahahah_

 

* * *

 

Today [Ed. 25th December 2014]

 

**You**

_Merry Christmas!_

 

**Beth**

_Merry Christmas!_

 

**Lizzie**

_Merry Christmas guys!_

 

**You**

_Beth, add this number_

_\+ 44 372 XXXXXXXX_

_It’s Simon_

 

**Beth**

_Nooooooo_

_Are you seriouuuuuus_

Beth added Simon

 

**Lizzie**

_Get oooooout_

_For real?_

**Simon**

_Hi guys_

 

**Lizzie**

_Simoooon_

_Welcome into 2014!!!!!!!!_

 

**Beth**

_hahahahah_

_Shut up Lizzie_

_Hi Simon_

 

**You**

_Should we change the name though?_

_Like_

_Lion Lion Eagle Snake_

 

**Beth**

_Do it_

 

You changed this group’s name to “Lion Lion Eagle Snake”

 

**Beth**

_It sounds so idiotic_

_I love it_

 

**Lizzie**

_Same_

 

**Simon**

_Guys what’s going on_

**You**

_We changed the group’s name_

_No big deal_

**Simon**

_I gwt it_

_Gety_

_Get_

 

**You**

_The keyboard is your friend Simon_

 

**Simon**

_Fick off_

_Fuck_

_I mean_

_Fuck!_

_And_

_Fuck off_

 

**Lizzie**

_Don’t you_

_Start_

_Writing_

_Like_

_This_

_Or I’ll kick you out_

 

**Beth**

_I’m the admin actually_

_But yes_

 

**Simon**

_hahah_

_So you use this rather than owks_

_Owls_

 

**You**

_Yes_

_Don’t you love it already?_

 

**Simon**

_I mena_

_Mean_

_Bloody keyboard_

_Anyways, it’s cool_

_Fast_

_Also no feathers everywhere_

 

**Beth**

_Told you_

 

* * *

 

Today [Ed. 27th December 2014]

 

**You**

_[picture of Kevin and Simon]_

_Hi girls_

 

**Simon**

_Hiiiii_

_Why aren’t we moving though_

 

**Beth**

_Ooooh_

_Hi guys!_

_Do you mean the picture, Simon?_

 

**Simon**

_Yes_

_I mean it’s cool_

_But still_

 

**You**

_We’ll make a video afterwards_

 

**Lizzie**

_Hi guys_

_So, Kevin, how is Simon’s house_

_Do they have flying carpets or whatever_

 

**Simon**

_I wish_

_But they’re illegal_

 

**Lizzie**

_say what_

_I was joking_

 

**Simon**

_the’yre Muggle artifacts, we can’t use them_

_They’re_

 

**Lizzie**

_And brooms aren’t? Seriously?_

 

**Simon**

_That’s what I say, but eh_

_I’m not the Minister_

 

**Beth**

_That would be so cool though_

_But how is Simon’s house, Kevin_

 

**Simon**

_You could ask me you know_

 

**Beth**

_But he’s a Muggleborn_

_He knows what we want to know_

 

**You**

_lmao_

_true_

_Anyways, it looks normal_

_But they have lots of cool stuff_

_Like, the curtains change colour_

 

**Simon**

_My mum loves that_

 

**You**

_And everything flies_

 

**Simon**

_Oh come on_

**You**

_It’s true!_

 

**Beth**

R _eally?_

**Simon**

_Don’t listen to him_

_It was my mum_

_She used magic to brew us some tea and she made it fly to us in the living room_

 

**You**

_The coolest thing_

 

**Simon**

_You’ve been at Hogwarts for months_

_I thought you were used to fluying things_

_Flying_

 

**You**

_I mean yes_

_But in a regular house it’s different_

 

**Beth**

_true_

 

* * *

 

Today [Ed. 4th January 2015]

**Simon**

_So when are we meeting tomorrow_

 

**Lizzie**

_We’ll be there by 9_

 

**Simon**

_Cool_

_We can spend some time together before the Express leaves_

****

**You**

_Yup_

_There’s a Starbucks near the station_

 

**Lizzie**

_I know_

_Let’s go there_

 

**Simon**

_Is it that café we went to yeseerday, Kevin?_

_Yesterday_

 

**You**

_Yes_

_Frappuccino is life_

 

**Simon**

_It was really good_

 

**Beth**

_Nice, I see that Simon is becoming a Muggle_

 

**Simon**

_hahahah_

_No but seriously guys_

_I didn’t know you had so many cool things_

_I’m going to miss this_

 

**Beth**

_What_

 

**Simon**

_The phone_

_Like_

_More WhatsApp, honestly_

_Instant messaging is awesome_

 

**Lizzie**

_TOOOOOOOOOOOOLD_

_YOUUUUUUUUUUU_

 

**Beth**

_HAHAHAHAH_

 

**You**

_LMAO_

 

**Simon**

_HAHAHAHAH_

_fair enough_

_But Quidditch is still cooler than football_

 

**Beth**

_Shut your mouth_

 

**Lizzie**

_Also you lost against us last month_

_So shut it twice_

 

**Beth**

_oooooooh_

 

**You**

_lol_

**Simon**

_Pure luck_

_Your Seeker can’t tell a Snitch from a Pygmy Puff_

_You won only because Warth was ill_

 

**Lizzie**

_sure_

 

**Simon**

_you’ll see_


End file.
